Across the night, and to the moon we went

Shall we Dance?

"I believe you Rachel." These were the only words I could come up with at the moment. There was a definite change over taking me. I had never in such a short span, felt the feelings I had at the moment. There was a physical attraction, of course. But, deeper down, there was a connection. A starburst, if you will, in the universe, a golden moment in time, as it stood still with this little french girl, and a half irish and half american male. 

 "Justin, I have to tell you something, something that is queer and odd for me." As Rachel said this, I felt like I was going to shit my pants...I knew what was coming, and I prepared to take my leave very quickly. I will not let her see my tears, I will not let her see me cry. Looks like it's going to be a night alone, with cheap wine and cheaper whiskey, wondering what the fuck just happened to me today. I leaned back, pulling her hands off of me, and gave her a very stone look, not one of callousness, nor coldness, but one of hope lost, but understanding. I knew this was odd and queer to say the least, and did not blame her if she wanted to run.

 "Please, tell me ma cher." I believe my tone must have given her pause, as she looked at me in a most weird fashion. "I only wanted to say, that I don't want to leave you right now, that I feel that this is where I am supposed to be. I want you to know, that I trust you...why I do not know...but I do." She tried to close the gap, and for the life of me, I stepped back half a step.

 "I'm sorry, I guess we are both acting a little hesitant. I guess it's time we get the elephant out of the room." I looked her in the eyes and forced myself to take a step forward. I took both of her hands in mine, and guided her over to a bench overlooking the park. I told her the story of my life thus far. The failures in youth of a fickle and emotionless family, of my time as a rock star poet, "If you took Ville Valo and Edgar Poe, and made one to carry, I could have been their child," I mused as she stared on smiling. "I don't know if I was meant for life, even for this one. I do know however, that I think I chose the wrong career." She looked deep in my eyes, as I had earlie told her my profession. She was surprised, as my hair was hanging well down over neck and ears and brushing the bottoms of my cheek. "Kind of, daper to be a soldier, mi homme."

 "Well, in my line of particular work, we like to stand in and not out of the crowd," I mused with her. She laughed, running her fingers threw my long black locks. "Well it will be a shame when they find no use for this, would be a crime to take such hair."